


To Dance with a Demon

by HackedTig



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Golden Age of Overwatch, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Rivals, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-14 10:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14134494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HackedTig/pseuds/HackedTig
Summary: Moira O’Deorain has always had her eyes on her success, her ambitions, her career, not even her superiors have had much success in holding her back from her true ideals. Angela Ziegler sticks to her rules like glue, and always finds Moira’s ideals and methods to be radical, a stretch, an impossibility. Their compatibility is minimal, their test runs are few and stressed. This new companionship is a dance, a dance with a newborn angel and a well-known demon.(Tags, Warnings, and Ratings are subject to change)





	1. The Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Welcome to _'To Dance with a Demon"_ , a Moicy slow burn fic I've wanted to write for a long time. _A Valkyrie's Game_ is coming to its slow and close, the major conflicts are over. I've slowed a little with the updates, and I've finally got a name and vague line for a Moicy fic. 
> 
> A little run down before we begin, yes, _To Dance with a Demon_ and _A Valkyrie's Game_ are the same universe, so do not expect the best ending. Do, however, expect a wonderful twist and beautiful story for our favorite scientists. This starts in 2062, where Angela is the head of Trauma at a hospital in Zürich. 
> 
> Without further ado, The Angel.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela receives summons from Overwatch, requesting to join their medical facilities.

There was never a second to which Angela Ziegler did not think on the point she had achieved in her life. At twenty-two, she was a proficient trauma surgeon, known throughout Europe for her quick methods and ability to focus as soon as a challenge came her way, and of course her revolutionary healing tech, nanites. Today was a new patient to treat, to stitch up, to heal with her advancing methods of surgery. 

Today was no exception. 

“That’s absolutely amazing, Doctor Ziegler. The nanobiology applied has practically saved his life.” Another attending commended, peering in on the work that Angela had done. A man had come, torn to shreds by a car accident. He was not expected to survive. Angela’s quick wit and analytical eyes found problems quicker than others normally would, she was perfect for this job. 

Sewing up the last of her handiwork, Angela looked up with her eyes crinkled in a smile, hidden by her surgical mask. “Normal hands and eyes wouldn’t be able to save him. The extent of his injuries required more… focused items.” She tied off her sutures, the string themselves laced with her technology, putting the contaminated tools in a bin to be sterilized. The man’s vitals were moderately weak but sustainable. Angela looked at what she saw on the holoscreen and gave a faint nod. “Have him in the ICU for now, I believe that will be his calmest area to recuperate” 

She dismissed herself as other staff gathered around, taking the surgical blankets away and prepping the patient for transport. Angela removed the disposable scrubs, letting loose her hair. She was praised by another colleague as they left the operating room, and she merely gave a smile and a nod. “Doing my job” was her response. Saving lives was always something Angela had a passion for. 

The halls were lively in usual chatter, despite the potential of illness and death around her. Happy compliments, relationships flourishing, people healing, it was Angela’s dream. 

The hospital she worked for was rebuilt not long after her parents' death. After its catastrophic destruction, Angela had worked hard to ensure she could return to its floors once again. In the main hall, were the names of all the doctors and patients who had died in its original destruction. Every day, Angela passed by it, a smile on her face and a silent prayer, traced with her fingers over the letters of her parents' names. They’d be proud, she convinced herself. 

In the attendings' office. Angela pulled up a laptop from her storage unit, pulling it into her lap and opening up a word document that held the details of her research, documentation on her Nanite research and development, including the patients she tried it on.

_April 13th, 2062. The pace to which the nanobots work is exceeding expectation for the current quality. Once hung up in the IV drip of the patient during emergency surgery, all that needed to be done was isolate injuries and close up the wounds, stop bleeding. Once all internal bleeding was under control, the nanites healed up other damages sustained. The sutures healed in record time once applied through IV. Next is concentrated injections, only when the situation is right and-”_

The pager on Angela’s belt beeped, a quick pace signal sent from the Chief of Surgery himself.. Having no discrepancies or problems on her own end, it brought confusion to the brilliant surgeon and scientist. 

Getting up on her feet in an instant, Angela shuffled her computer back into her handbag, pushing it back into her storage unit. Getting caught not necessarily doing her job was problematic yet thrill-inducing, making her pulse quicken. Tugging her coat over her body, Angela made the short walk back the way she came. A patient she had treated not too long ago gave her a small wave as she made her rounds with a nurse by her side, walking after a nasty accident to her leg. Angela returned the smile before turning into an office, door completely open and waiting for her. 

She knocked generously on the door frame, despite already being inside. “Doctor Durtschi, sir? You paged?” Angela asked, folding her hands politely behind her back. 

He was an older man with salt and pepper hair, looking on Angela with gentle green eyes. “I’m glad you’re here. You’ve received a special letter from someone I suspect you’d have plenty of interest in. Your good friends are part of it.” Durtschi reached out, passing Angela an enclosed envelope. The item printed on the back of it made something in Angela’s stomach twist and burn. 

It was a logo of black and orange, in a distinct pattern recognized around the world. “Overwatch,” she said, the bitter tone in her voice almost couldn’t be hidden. “I’ve gotten a letter from Overwatch. What could they possibly want?” It was a mutter under her breath, but still clearly heard. Durtschi did not make a motion to respond as Angela almost over-eagerly ripped the letter open. 

She invited herself to sit down as she shifted through the paper. It was only a few paragraphs, but its message was clear and simple as she continued to read it. 

The heads of Overwatch wanted her to return. Permanently. 

“You know” Durtschi started, leaning over his desk and making a bit more of a smile. “It’s a very great honor to be requested to join that organization, Angela. It means you’ve made an impact since your med school graduation. Didn’t you visit there before enlisting as an intern?”

“Yes,” Angela responded, folding the letter back up and putting it in her envelope. “To visit my friend, Torbjörn. I wanted to see how his arm was doing since augmentation and repairs which inspired my technology three years prior. I was impressed by the medical facilities they had at the time. But their methods, their reasons… I do not agree with. I cannot join them at this time” The blonde said, putting the letter back on her superior’s desk. 

The elder man seemed reflective, taking the letter back and fidgeting with it. “Well. They do have the most advanced technology available, and steady funding. They’re a peacekeeping organization, isn’t that what you wanted?” Durtschi asked her. 

“A peacekeeping organization through militaristic means. Violence isn’t necessary in most cases to settle the peace. It's barbaric!” Angela exclaimed. “It’s more than what I support.” 

Durtschi nodded. “Sometimes we must cooperate with that in which we dislike most in order to achieve our goals. Medical advancement may not stop a war, but it can lessen the impact of it. At least think of it in that terms, Doctor Ziegler. I implore you to consider this opportunity.” Once again, he handed Angela the letter. She was a little more hesitant taking it this time, looking over the letter and the hand that offered it to her. 

Slowly, she reached for it again. The back of the envelope had a number and email she could call at the bottom. Although Angela’s thought to respond was a bit different than expected. 

“I’ll consider the possibilities, Sir. Thank you for the page.”

\--- --- --

The letter sat on Angela’s table in her dining room. She sat with her laptop in front of her, the same file open from before. She was reading previous publications of her research, what she had written today, how she would format it into the next of her series. The letter from earlier also lay open on her desk, its message still a conflict in Angela’s mind. 

The blonde looked at it one more time, scanning the page. She had read it so many times the words were almost engraved in her brain. 

They requested her presence. They wanted her nanobots to heal wounded soldiers, and they wanted her to develop new technology with Doctor O’Deorain. If there was something Angela was the most opposed to, it was working with O’Deorain. 

One of Angela’s problems was a breach of ethics. Breaking the rules to obtain her goals. This O’Deorain person knew how to stretch those boundaries, or so Angela had heard. Someone who didn’t care who objected their ideas or their methods, and would perform them anyway. Breaking a silent humane code every doctor and scientist abided. Those rumors were enough to keep the young doctor away. And yet… the words of her superior gave her some second thoughts. 

“The best tech in the world… there’s no other chance like it…” Angela mumbled to herself, scrolling through her documents on her laptop. Her nanites could only go so far, coaxed once the bleeding stopped and tissue was close enough together to heal. There were so many things she wished they could do, that could not be achieved at this hospital. Overwatch really was her best chance to save as many lives as possible, despite being a military organization. The highest of Angela's concerns through accepting this request was that she would fall into their militaristic mindset. Still... it was well worth the risk. 

She opened up another window and signed into her email account, opening up a new message. It was a formality to send paper letters, especially from organizations such as Overwatch, but an email was still the quickest form of communication in the present day. It only took her a short time to compose a response, short and sweet in her acceptance. A wishful thought allowed her to get her calm enough to hit the send button.

An empty pit started to form, fear creeping up in her body. She just agreed to develop technology for a military organization. The only thing that scared her more than that was the fact she would be working with O’Deorain. 

She settled about cleaning up her belongings, changing into clothes to sleep in, getting her top halfway over her head when she heard her computer ding at her. The notification that she had received an email from someone. It made her freeze in place. That couldn’t be Overwatch officials already, could it? Unless they were just that eager to hear from Angela… 

Tugging her shirt over, the blonde walked back over to the table, eyeing the emails on her list. Just as she suspected, up at the top was an email from an official Overwatch email, but not the general one she applied to. This was from an “Ana Amari”, one of the original founders of Overwatch and someone Angela respected. 

Angela took in a breath before she opened it up, sitting in her chair and scanning the letter carefully, eyes trained on important words. 

_It is very good to hear from you, Angela. We look forward to you joining us in Gibraltar. You will be excited to know you will not be forced to share your board with anyone else, isolated for your research. If your talents do prove useful to us, your living status will improve substantially. I am sure the rest of our team will be excited to have someone so young and bright-minded working with us at last, as anticipated from when you visited after your college graduation._

_While you have work to complete, you will be in charge of most medical cases and injuries in Overwatch. Research is headed by our very own Doctor Moira O’Deorain. In fact, she has requested help to advance her research, and who else better than you? Below is the information regarding a shuttle to pick you up from Zürich and transport you to Watchpoint Gibraltar. We hope to see you ready for work once you arrive._

_Best Regards, Captain Ana Amari_

Angela read over the tickets, the name of the pilot, when the shuttle would arrive, all of the things that were important before she shut the lid on her laptop rather forcefully and sighed. Moira. That was a woman’s name. Maybe she would be a little bit easier to work with if that were the case… but that was just wishful thinking from a young, foolish doctor. 

The blonde pinched the bridge of her nose just thinking about a headache she was already getting from the potential meeting. It was just something she’d have to face. Another colleague she could impress. A roadblock with minimal chance of success. 

But since when have such roadblocks stopped someone like Angela?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like a little background on what transpired in this hospital, it will only be a little bit of time until I post it. Or, you could read [Level 7 - Nightmares, from A Valkyrie's Game](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12625854/chapters/28932174) until the full fic is posted. 
> 
> This is the basis for Angela's acceptance to Overwatch. I'll get Moira done sometime soon, then start their interaction with one another. Hopefully, I can push it out sometime soon. Until then, thank you all for reading and comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated. Until then~
> 
> **EDIT** : Here is the fic with Angela's past and the hospital, [Helden Sterben Nicht](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14135877) ! If you would like clearer information, this is for sure your place to get it <3


	2. The Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira is approached with the suggestion of a new lab partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Errors in the previous chapter were fixed. 
> 
> This is the introduction to Moira. She is fixated, clean, proper, and doesn't give a damn towards her superiors, but she is too valuable to lose. Where Angela is 22, Moira is 33. Let's call her work in Overwatch restricted, but funded. Moira works the lines, but colors outside of them on her own, private time. Let's get to see this little devil a little clearer, hm?

Every day started the exact same way. But of course, that was fine by Moira. Any routine she could follow was welcome in her chaos of a life. Always organized, always on top, she would not let anything impede her no matter the cost. That was why some of the assistants she had worked with over the years all called her a demon in human skin, the devil incarnate. She never let it bother her. In fact, she turned it into pure confidence and class. 

It was more than her intelligence they feared, Moira reasoned. It was her stature, her limitless mind, the fact she followed little rules. There must be a sacrifice to the name of science. 

This morning, she walked into the lab, her steaming cup of coffee waking her a little more before she got to her desk. There were no interns or assistant to be seen. It seemed as though she had chased off the last person willing to work for her in this damned establishment if that were possible. Who could blame them, none of them had the same likeness for science as she did. A scoff left the back of her throat as she walked to her desk. Uncluttered, just as she expected it. 

The scientist put her mug on the top of her desk and she looked out across her now currently empty laboratory. Hers. 

The moment she took to observe her lab, appreciating its emptiness, where everything was perfect to her. What a time to revel in what perfect settings she gave herself. She sipped the warm liquid in her mug all the way down to the bottom before she let it sit back on the desk. 

“Let’s get to work” 

Moira cracked her knuckles, walking over to a wall of her lab and pressing a button. A screen came up displaying blueprints with calculations littering the sides. A drawing of a small robotic system, on the cellular level. A more sharp, angled design. There were notes off to the side, a published paper which Moira didn’t bother reading the name of. All she knew was their brain wasn’t available for Moira to pick, but this paper was. 

Scanning the first few lines again, the redhead looked back to the calculations of her work thus far. Moira gathered plenty from this research. But what she couldn’t figure out ways to augment them for more… suitable purposes. To change genetic coding and implant them… But she could feel she was on the verge of breaking through on the secret. Just a few more calculations would help. 

The holoscreen had two fingers wiped to its side, stretching it out father for more notes to be taken. With one messy finger, Moira inscribed more equations, more theories, theoretical outputs. She had another design plan for the nanite below by noon, able to be programmed if within a swarm. To work as a hive mind, to attack things in calculated, controlled intervals rather than simply mend flesh aimlessly like glue. The next step was figuring out how to develop it to its full potential. 

A knock on her lab door disrupted the flow of her thinking. She glanced up at the clock of her dimly lit lab, cursing the fact that it was already noon from the 7 AM she walked into her lab. “I’m working.” Moira snapped towards the door. “What do you want?” 

There wasn’t a verbal response, but there were clicks and the door opened. “I’d think that after five years you’d have more respect, O’Deorain.” A sterner, almost mother hinted voice called at her through the door. Ana Amari stepped through the frame and admired the work on the other edge of the wall. “I see your research into analyzing the nanobiology is going well, despite chasing away all of your aides.” 

Moira let out a dry, sarcastic laugh as she minimized her holoscreen. “Yes. Because they were doing so much to aid me to begin with.” 

“I’ve been thinking on that.” Ana walked in, taking a seat at Moira’s desk. She looked at the rest of the lab and folded her hands. “What if we got you a different assistant. Rather, someone on your own level.” 

The Irish woman turned, leaning against a counter with a look of disgust on her face. She examined the expression the clever captain had on her face, that lidded eyed smirk made her sick. “You’re not joking, are you.” It wasn’t a question. 

“The world is expansive. I’m sure there’s someone out there who is willing to become your partner in medical research.” Ana said. 

“ _Genetic_ research.” Moira corrected. “If you can find someone out there with as much intellect as I have, without sticking to the walls of the scientific realm, be my guest, Amari. If you can’t do that, don’t bother sending me extra hands.” 

The Egyptian studied the Irish woman’s face for a moment, determining what to say next. She simply smiled, recalling the work she had just observed. “What if they’re young enough to be encouraged and changed O’Deorain?” 

To that, Moira finally showed some other emotion beyond annoyance and disgust. Intrigue. “What do you mean.” She inquired. 

“Well.” The captain picked up Moira’s empty mug, examining it for a moment and looking over its rim. “How about Angela Ziegler?” 

That made Moira want to gag.” Ziegler? That med student from Switzerland? She sticks to the rules like my dogs stick to their bones for dinner. There’s no way I’d impression her otherwise. Do you even know her history?” 

“Of course I do. She toured this facility before you got here when she was seventeen. Bright. Quick-witted. She’d give anything to help the world. Jack offered her a spot beforehand, but she refused because of her beliefs. Now that she has made a little more progress…” Ana moved, walking from the desk over to the scientist. She pulled up the files Moira had minimized, zooming in on the work that Moira was reading up on. “Her studies are slowing, but her developments are too promising to drop. She’s in need of better facilities, Moira. She’d be more willing to turn over and come help us. And if your work is anything to judge by, you’d benefit from her intellect.” Ana turned to Moira, smiling in a little coy way. 

She wasn’t given her position for batting her eyelashes or firing a rifle, Moira noted. She was extremely good with her words. Amari’s expression told Moira everything she needed to know. “Fuck, alright,” Moira growled, her teeth clenched tight. “I’ll take Ziegler’s… expertise in her creation. If it advances my research, I see no reason for requesting her to join us in this… matter.” 

“Well good.” Ana started taking her steps to the door. “Because she’s already been sent a letter requesting her involvement in Overwatch’s medical and biological development, and to become the Main Field Medic we have.” 

“Putting a child not much older than your own on the front lines. That’s bold, Amari. What makes you think she’ll do it?” Moira crossed her arms. 

“You said it yourself. She sticks to the rules like a dog sticks to his bone. She’ll do what we tell her if it’s put the right way.” Ana opened the door, that sly look still on her face. 

“My my, Amari. I don't think I’ve ever seen such a deceptive and cunning side of you.” Moira responded with mock-appreciation. “Finally becoming the more necessary brains of this organization rather than another brave face?” 

Ana turned to her, giving a wink. “Only when I need to in order to make my agents get along. Be seeing you, Doctor O’Deorain” 

With that, the captain left the lab, leaving Moira alone with her thoughts. Drumming her nails on the counter she leaned on, the redhead had quite a thoughtful expression on her face as she brought the paper back off the main holoscreen and pulled it in front of her. For the first time, she actually looked at the name on the paper. 

“Doctor Angela Ziegler, Zürich Mercy Hospital, Third Year Resident, 2059.” She read aloud, pushing herself up to actually sit on the counter. It completely disrupted the current holoscreen behind her, leaving just the one in her hand. “... I wonder…” She pondered. 

She dissipated the small screen she had in her hands, moving back to her desk for computer access. What harm would it do to gather more information? Moira didn’t necessarily enjoy blind visitors into her personal lab. She searched up the name she received, only clicking on other medical research papers she could find… and then what little information she could pull up on Angela. She was known as a young graduate from a medical college in Switzerland, the brightest young mind in Europe. She received an honor for her advances, how far she had come in such a short time. Nothing beyond that. 

Moira frowned, despite the information she had gathered. She was young and brilliant. Possibly impressionable. Someone Moira could probably work into a better member of the scientific community than she already was. Close to her own standards. It was theoretical. After all what else could be made from a twenty-two-year-old with something to prove? That is if Moira made her feel like she had something to prove. 

A smile curved up her lips, something devilish planning in the back of her mind at her plans. The steps she’d take. But nothing was set in stone. First, she had to see what equipment she was working with in person. Then, she would determine how her test would run. Moira was always more… hands-on with her theories anyhow. 

It seemed that when Angela arrived, Moira would be living up to her nicknames given by peers and colleagues alike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ladies and gentlemen is Moira. She's in it for her own gain. She doesn't go into her parents because she isn't interested in them, only Angela. So she has no idea her parents are deceased yet. Just to make that known. Now with both of them properly introduced, it is time to begin the REAL storytelling. 
> 
> Each chapter should be between 2.5K and 3K words on average. The update schedule, I am unsure about. But if I get slacking, something will remind me of it eventually. I'm still writing the outline as I go, so I have no idea how many chapters I'll have yet either, but it theoretically should be longer than Valkyrie's Game is planned to be. I make no such promises, however. 
> 
> Comments and suggestions are always welcome. Thank you all for reading!


	3. Greeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela and Moira finally meet... and it is not pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for waiting so long to update this. Hopefully, no one minded too much. I was quite busy and kept up with other work. Thankfully, I had the time now!

Angela was expecting something rather fancy, such as a helicopter to come pick her up. She was told she had a ticket for a gate at the airport nearby, but not what she was riding or for how long. Instead, she found herself looking out the window of a militant dropship. It unsettled her to the very core, but she was still impressed. It was clean and organized, something she didn’t expect. 

The flight itself was also quite a wonder, passing over the different countries she had known but only dreamed to visit on tours, giving her nanobiology technology around the world as a means to heal those affected by war. This isn’t quite what she had in mind when she wanted to spread it. 

The view was still beautiful, momentarily distracting her from the fate she had set for herself. It wasn’t until she started getting glimpses of the ocean that she realized she was already almost to the Overwatch base of Gibraltar, the facility not too far from her expectations… with the exception of part of it being in a rock. Over the intercom, a voice spoke that spooked Angela out of her observation. 

“Doctor Ziegler, we will be arriving soon. Captain Amari is waiting in Hangar A for your arrival and will guide you around the facilities.” The voice of the AI Athena was still a little robotic, but it was much better than the last time Angela had heard it. She smiled, remembering the AI’s habit of spontaneously popping up without a warning. It was almost like some kind of awkward mother, reminding the soldiers what to do from time to time. In this case, it was simply letting Angela know of her fate soon to be. 

The touchdown of the aircraft was a bit shakier than Angela anticipated. The soldier who piloted the plane looked back from his seat, smiled at Angela and even gave her a thumbs up. If she could guess, he was somewhere in his forties. 

The door soon slid open, compressed air mixing with fresh. The blonde looked at the landscape, seeing soldiers running laps and practicing close combat, Among them looked to be a man she recognized from five years prior. 

Her gaze didn’t last too long, as the familiar motherly face of Ana Amari greeted her with a form of Arabic greeting. “Angela! You’re here at last.” She reached her arms out, pulling Angela into a tight hug. “I’m glad to see you back here, finally joining us. Was the opportunity of advancing medicine just too great this time around?” 

Angela laughed a little generously, trying to engage in the interaction. “Yes. Just this time around. I had a little convincing.” 

“Oh? And who changed your mind? Someone with great influence I’d hope?” The captain smiled, her eyes crinkling a little. 

“Enough of one, yes,” Angela responded in kind. 

Ana gave her a brief pat on the back to be kind, then turned her away from the aircraft while the soldier carried her luggage out of the aircraft. It gave the young doctor a bit of a concern, not being able to see her baggage through to the end. Ana patted her shoulder and gave her a gentle gaze. “Don't worry, he already knows your room assignment, and he'll take them straight there. We will even take you to your rooms first to peer in if that will comfort you more.” Ana assured. 

“I think I’d like that’ Angela responded. 

Ana grinned a little bit more. “In that case, take this.” She reached into her coat pocket, pulling out a general, blank ID with Angela’s name on it. “I had it pre-printed before your arrival. It will give you access to your room until you get a photocopy and your prints scanned.” The captain explained before beginning her walk. 

The pilot followed first, and after a moments queue, Angela followed. 

\--- --- ---

The tour of the base was a bit shorter than Angela remembered it being last time, perhaps because last time she was actually visiting for the first time. Instead, she was shown where her room was, separate from others and with just herself inside. She had learned from Ana that soldiers typically stayed in three to a room, and a singlet was hard to come by. With her research, she’d need the whole room to herself when she couldn’t stay in the lab.

That’s what brought them to the last stop. The lab. Angela had been anticipating seeing just what updated material they had in this time frame. The captain could sense the young doctor’s giddiness, smiling in response like a proud parent would. “Alright, Angela. This is your Medical Lab. Your office and your main healing facilities are in the Medical Bay and your office connected to it, but this is where you yourself can develop your healing technology.” Ana turned to Angela with a knowing smile on her face. “Are you ready, Angela?” 

“I’m prepared,” Angela responded with a gentle smile. Her heart was beating a little quicker, that much she knew of. She was just excited at the opportunity. She tried to put out the war from the back of her mind, and instead focused on the positives. 

Ana got her ID to open the lab doors, her card having an instant bypass property. Almost immediately, there was a groan of dissatisfaction. 

“Amari, I’m _working_ ” The voice made Angela jump in her skin.

The pair stepped in, Ana walking over with some kind of cocky smirk of confidence. “I just thought I’d bring over your new lab partner, O’Deorain.” She responded, leaning against the desk. “Don't be shy, Doctor Ziegler.” 

It only took a few moments of hesitation before Angela did as Ana requested, stepping into view with a tall figure glowering down at her from across the room. A chill went up through her spine as she locked eyes, ocean blue staring down mitched match fiery red and icy blue. Something in them was calming, while also sending Angela’s sensations flaring with a fight or flight response that wouldn’t be responded to. Not with a superior in the room. Not with confusion circling Angela’s brain at the same time. 

Her confusion dispelled once Moira’s voice snapped in her ears. “Well?” it was simple but powerful. 

“S… Sorry,” Angela responded, straightening up. “I’m… Doctor Angela Ziegler, I’m a Trauma Surgeon-” 

“Then why are you in my lab?” The redhead barely let her finish, her brows knitted together in pure annoyance. 

The blonde’s voice caught in her throat. Never had she met someone so… forceful. She cleared her throat and tried to give more confidence. “To compile research on my Nanites, to expedite healing and regeneration. I was told you were interested in the research as well.” Angela explained.

Moira seemed to glare at her a little more from her position, offering little more than a simple noise to her ignorance. The resulting silence left Angela with little more than a pit in her stomach and guilt filling her being. 

Ana clasped her hands together in a loud, dignified clap and seemed to beam. “I can see you both will eventually get along. Angela, you are free to do as you please, but get your ID card before the end of the night. Dinner will be in the mess hall by nineteen-hundred. Have fun!” 

Her rather cherry yet official disposition left Angela with a bit of a shaken feeling. Taking a deep breath, Angela decided to look back to Moira for any instruction or mere suggestion. She cleared her throat and attempted to show more confidence. “Doctor O’Deorain, where could I-” 

“You can’t, dear.” Moira brushed her off before she could even finish, sitting back down and scribbling notes. “Your nanites are only basic, not even satisfactory. They need more work done before we can even begin on working together on any project at all.” She concluded, her tone of ridicule and disrespect. 

“I can’t develop them unless I have a lab, that was the entire point of coming to Overwatch, for better facilities and support” Angela responded with her voice just a little strained. 

The redhead glared at her from her paperwork once more, scoffing just a bit. She then put on a bemused smile and looked at the blonde directly in the eye. The younger shivered and lowered her gaze after a moment or two, earning a small laugh from Moira.

Nothing else was said from that moment, complete silence radiated. It allowed Angela to start wandering around the lab. If she wasn’t going to be shown she’d find a place for her self on the other side. Her rummaging made little noise, and yet Angela could still feel like she was disturbing something. Or someone. For a time she ignored it, glancing at the various machinery in the room instead. She found some typical lab equipment, then the holographic blueprint boards next to in-depth cellular chamber to see the effects of cellular changes and modifications. Someplace she could see her nanites react... Curiously, she pulled a flash drive from her pocket and plugged it into the blueprint section, watching as the screen became alight as if it was a computer. She was awestruck at the way her files popped up, leaning against a desk to see her own work scrolling across the screen. She had seen it before… but now on an overwatch screen, with more incredible materials than the last…

A throat clearing interrupted her gleeful discovery. Angela looked behind her to find Moira not too far away, looking only at the board of information.

“What?” Angela inquired, turning to fully face her. 

Moira’s face turned into something more amused. “You carry your research on your person, where any given soul could steal it.” She commented. 

Angela’s eyes narrowed. “I always have research on hand in case of an emergency. You never know when you may need to help someone.” 

“The plans,” Moira responded, pulling up files and stretching them out. Some were basic prints of her nanites, the coding. It was in incredibly basic coding. “Anyone could take this flash drive from you and steal everything you have worked on for the past several years of your life. It wouldn’t be hard. I could even do it right now if I wanted to” 

Angela whipped her head back to her to retaliate, but Moira kept speaking. “But I won’t. Because that would get me fired. Probably. In case it wasn’t obvious to you, I need the funding and resources as well. Probably more than you” She finished. She turned back, heading back to her desk. Angela held back the urge to outright yell at the geneticist. Her temper had never been the best. “What is your problem with me, Doctor O’Deorain. You’ve barely known me ten minutes and you treat me as if I’m dirt you walk on.” 

“Because you are,” Moira responded. 

Angela’s expression turned sour. Her stomach churned as this woman full heartedly admitted her opinion without a string of guilt or stress. Just who the hell decided within a few minutes to hate or distrust?

Moira looked at her from her desk, gaze a little more than superior in the moment. “You’re young and inexperienced, it doesn’t matter how far you got in how short of a time, you’re nothing but an innocent. Until you face real situations beyond what an ER can give you, Your ideas are infantile.” The Irish woman explained, her gaze low. “Now. Do you want to keep acting like a child, or do you want to learn and act like a scientist?” 

The blonde clenched her fist and made an attempt to not stamp her foot in dismay. “ _Doctor O’Deorain_... I did my time in medical school. I’ve had my papers accepted by the UN and any medical board I've sent them to. I was the head of my department of trauma which is a step behind a war. What more do you want from me?” 

“A dose of reality,” Moira responded. “You’re not a god and not everything is a fairytale.”

Angela held herself from biting back. _I can try_ almost came from her mouth but she held her tongue. For now. “What makes you believe I have those ideals?” Angela inquired, her voice low. 

“The way you write, and how you carry yourself. You know nothing of failure. YOu’ve been gifted for a long time and met with little, realistic resistance beyond technology.”It was then Moira’s face turned into something of twisted pleasure, something working in her mind that should have probably scared Angela then. “I can’t wait until Morrison pushes you into war.” 

That tilted Angela a little too far. 

“You shouldn’t wish the wages of war upon anyone, Doctor O’Deorain! If you actually were in a war-like situation you’d know that!” Angela snapped, feeling the heat in her cheeks. Fearing any sort of rebuttal, Angela quickly took her leave out the door, her face flush with a blush as she went. 

Moira leaned back in her chair as she watched Angela march away, some kind of twisted smile on her face. “I’m going to actually enjoy this…” She mumbled to herself. As she turned back to her notes, Moira felt something else creep up in her chest. What the feeling was, she couldn’t tell and allowed it to roam and dissipate as she continued the notes upon her last test. 

An experiment on the vary nanites she had just criticized Angela on. 

\--- --- --- 

 

Fearing the reaction from Moira, or reports to higher class people, Angela moved to her room. She used the temporary ID she held to open her door, shutting herself behind it and leaning against the door. For a few moments, she just stood there glancing about her suitcase and the room she had to work with. She had to calm down…

In her attempt to soothe herself, she glanced at the area to work with. Where extra beds would be was desk space for Angela. Perfect for her Petri dishes and piles of research paperwork…

She felt the bitterness in her mouth go down a little, finding something to distract herself with. The blonde closed her eyes for a few extra seconds, reveling in the peace of her little room. “She doesn’t know any better, Angela… She doesn’t know you.” She muttered to herself, seemingly to excuse the behavior of her new superior. 

Angela could tell that Overwatch was going to be _hell_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus the start of these two becoming more than enemies begins. Eventually, Moira will stop being so assholeish and Angela will loosen up in the best and worst of ways. You all will see. :) 
> 
> I appologize in advance for how I portray Angela and Moira. Despite being intelligent I feel like Angela would be a little socially inept. She only knows respectful work practices, when faced with someone rude she isn’t sure how to develop to that. Moira I don’t have much excuse for except I’m not too skilled in writing someone like her yet. Not in a good way. I’ll probably change how things are as the story goes and I’ll let everyone know. 
> 
> Thank you for reading if you did and comments and suggestions are always welcome.


	4. Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela attempts to get adjusted on her first official day in Overwatch, Moira makes it exceedingly difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, before anything, I've changed my writing style for this chapter, just to see how it goes. I found some writing guides on Tumblr expressing how the style of writing I have is, more or less, a little left to be desired. Which I can't blame the guide after looking at it. So, I've changed things up a little bit. I hope you guys like it! Also, this chapter is finally up to proper length, so that is also exciting~

The next morning, despite her supposed clearance with her new ID, Angela was having trouble with the lab doors. The keypad was showing error when her card was brought up to the panel, which wasn’t right. The young doctor had visible annoyance over her features as she tried to think of any sort of solution to her problem. She could just go get a new ID or talk to Captain Amari...

That was when trouble had arrived. 

Moira towered from behind her, Giving Angela a sneaking suspicion of feeling like a little intern that was about to be chewed by their resident. She turned around and watched as Moira herself pulled out her own ID card, pressing it against the scanner and entering a code. The keypad started to blink green, and the doors slid open with a rush of cold air. “You don't have the clearance to unlock the lab yet,” Moira said, her tone quite flat.

Angela was frozen in place for a moment, watching as Moira moved to her desk to get started for the day. A bit of an unimpressed expression cropped up on Angela’s face as she picked up her case bag and stepped into the lab before the doors shut. “Why don't I?” 

“You aren’t the research head, darling. Not yet anyway.” Moira responded, sipping from her steaming mug afterward. 

Angela held back from rolling her eyes as she walked over to the desk Moira now sat at. “Will I be allowed any clearance at all?” 

To that, Moira had said nothing, sending Angela into a bit of a frustrated huff but with no other response. She was going to poke around the lab again when Moira spoke up, taking notice of Angela’s aloofness. “You can, however, start prepping the desk over there for your own uses.” 

“Finally” Angela muttered under her breath. Picking up her pace, she moved to the empty desk to start inspecting the area, including the older model of holo screen computer set up on it. A frown was etched on her face as she remembered the standard from yesterday, the projector to the left of her that would be a much easier viewing point for her research. Turning back to see Moira now paying absolutely no attention to her, she pulled up her bag she had been carrying with her and set it aside. A small ‘umph”, and she was placing the outdated system off to the side. 

She set up her laptop right before her pager started to go off, something Angela was accustomed to in her days of the trauma unit. She also knew to answer the call with a run, not a sprint. “Keep the lab open,” Angela said to the air, hoping the words caught her colleague before she ran out of it. The door slid shut to a slam as she made her way towards the Medical Wing. In her coat pocket was an emergency stash of nanites, in case her situation got out of hand. Not like it would, they only had training facilities here. 

It didn't kill any part of Angela’s joyful rush, however. 

The smile that spread on her face as she could see the doors in her sight, it was slight, but a true sign of her favorite part of her job.

As she slid into the wing, there was more medical staff buzzing around on their own terms and assignments, but a large soldier sized man sitting on the closest immediate-examination table drew her immediate attention. Not just any soldier, it seemed. Jack Morrison was in the pit with a wound over his bicep. Large enough that it needed immediate attention, not small enough that his own body could take care of it with the enhancement program. Angela studied it profusely in concurrence with her nanites to see if they had anything in common, if at all. Whether or not it did now, had little to do with the situation at hand. “Commander Morrison. It’s a surprise to see you in here.” Angela said, a bit of worry in her features and coming through in her thicker accent. "I assume you issued the page?" 

“It’s a surprise to me too, trust me,” Jack responded. There was a rough grunt in his voice from the pinch of pain, but as a soldier Angela expected him to wear a tough face. "I did request you be paged, yes."

“What got you injured, Sir?” Angela asked as she quickly pulled rubber gloves over her hands. 

“Training courses. Reyes and I run them frequently together to relive the days of the super soldier program.” He started, watching as she moved fluidly around the environment to gather materials. “He shoved me along some of the rough railings that are there to avoid, combat avoidance and all.” 

“I see.” Angela pulled the tray cart next to her, sitting on a stool while she urged Jack to move his hand off of the wound. “Do you two spar and injure each other often?” She inquired, pulling the packing off to get a good look. Two centimeters deep, mostly into the skin and some into muscle, about 16 centimeters in length. The shove was more forceful than it should have been, Angela noted. 

The commander seemed to think about it, a common tactic to weaken the impact. “You could say that.” 

Angela didn’t warn him when she pulled out the cloth to clean the wound more, get the blood away, but she was gentle. “Have you considered less dangerous methods? Hand to hand sparring instead of running through training courses?” She suggested. 

“Got bored” was the simple cut response. Perhaps to avoid letting a squeak out over the pain. 

“I see,” Angela responded. She held little chit-chat after that. Seeking to keep this encounter as professional and impressive as possible. The previous conflicts melted as her primary job came cut and clear, healing wounds. She started sutures quickly and efficiently, not even alerting Jack of her start. When she was finished, she quickly snipped the string with her scissors. From her pocket, she brought out the small portion of nanites she carried with her and was able to drip some of the solution onto clean gauze. After taping it to Jack’s arm, Angela gave it a generous pat and pulled off her gloves. “Check on it by the end of the day and tell me how it looks.” 

He looked between Angela and the bandage on his arm. “That fast, huh?” 

“Yes, Sir,” Angela responded politely. “Nanites bond with the flesh to come together and help mend it quicker. They speed up the process of inflammatory responses and proliferation in the cells. Larger amounts of nanites can perform the task quicker. With a little dab like I have applied to your gauze, it will take a little while to heal completely without respiration.” Angela responded. 

“I understand that’s basic anatomy.” He responded, flexing his arm just a little bit. “Have you set up your station in the labs with Doctor O’Deorain?” 

“Ah… Well. About that. It seems I’m having trouble earning clearance to the lab. Doctor O’Deorain is… proving to be a rather difficult partner to work with.” Angela responded, attempting to keep her voice as steady as possible. 

Jack nodded at the confession. “I’ll have a chat with Captain Amari, to see what we can do about this clearance issue. Until then, try to get more familiar with the medical bay. You’re a good doctor, Angela. I would hate for you to turn into a lab rat like Doctor O’Deorain.” Jack told her. 

With a slight grumble, he hopped off the table and gave his arm another flexing, walking out of the Medical Bay with a stunned Angela behind him. Slowly, the realization came to her and she crossed her arms. “What kind of man doesn’t respect his healer…” She mumbled under her breath before taking in a deep one. She turned around to face the rest of the Medical Bay beds were along the walls along with various supplies for topical injuries. The set up of a standard trauma bay if she could say so herself. There were rooms off to the left side near the back for more urgent matters, emergent procedures. In the very back, Angela recognized as doors to the Operating Rooms. To the right, closer to the front, were offices. Many of them had name tags on the doors besides the closest one. 

Taking Commander Morrison’s words in for consideration, Angela stepped over to the empty, nameless office. Angela remembered the day before, Ana had told her her name would soon be on the door and she would be able to take her normal doctrine work here, like any other doctor in a station. A small grin lighted up her face at the familiar workspace, talking Angela a few moments as she went to the desk and looked over the state of the art computer, shut down and shining with the light from outside. 

A few moments of quiet reflection brought some peace that somethings were going right before Angela decided to shut the door, leaving herself inside. She turned on the light before sliding over to the desk to examine the view from there. The wheely office chair wasn't well used, and there were two basic chairs against the wall under a window that viewed into the rest of the Medical Bay. A quiet space where conversations on patient privacy and health could be taken without much problem. A room with privacy was only given to the Chief of Surgery in her old hospital in Zürich. 

Pulling out a sheet from a shelf, Angela then decided to fill out the injury report from Jack, letting the rest of her worries drown in the background while doing her trained job for the first time she got there. 

_”Morrison received injury on the training ground after rough play with another soldier. The injury was treated with basic issue cleaning materials and suture, with the addition of a thin one of nanites along the injury. A further report on injury repair to come once patient returns...”_

It was, altogether, a mildly peaceful period of time. At least over here, Angela could get situated the way she knew best. 

\--- --- --- 

By the end of the day, when Angela was supposedly allowed to take leave to her quarters, most of her research and document was on the new computer before her, with an upload speed much faster than the laptop she had left in the labs. She even realized there was mood lighting in her office, capable of adjusting automatically as the day changed or at a constant level. The only other indication beyond the clock on the wall and the computer that night had fallen was the vague blue hue with the lighting above her now. 

She had also opted to open the blinds of the window, allowing people to see where she was should someone needed her assistance, or she was deemed MIA for whatever reason. Few interruptions came into the Medical Bay, and those that did were taken care of by other on staff nurses or doctors equipped while Angela set up her space. Something told her, besides the encounter with Commander Morrison, that she would be less seen doing medicine in the lab and more developing her technology. None seemed like a con to her. 

Finally, as she could see the clock reaching 22:00, someone within the shadows of the Medical Bay approached and knocked on Angela’s door. 

Less than startled, Angela raised her head from the screen to the door. “Come in.” She answered. Pressing her shoulders back and sitting up, Angela prepared herself for the expected guest, Morrison himself. 

“Good evening, Doctor Ziegler.” He greeted her rather formally. “It may be late for you, but I was reminded of the bandage on my arm. Didn’t you want to reobserve?” 

“Ah, yes. Please sit” Angela smiled softly, putting asides her task and pulling back the sheet she had from earlier and a pair of gloves. “All I need is to see if the Nanites application has worked externally in a small dose. How do you feel?” 

Angela rounded the desk and pulled up Jack’s sleeves as he seemed contemplative of the question. “It hasn’t hurt, mostly been warm on my skin for the rest of the day.” He responded. 

She nodded to him and peeled off the bandage, including the dissolving stitches. She had a proud grin on her face admiring the work done. To give it a test, she ran her finger over where the injury would be. No tearing, no flinch under the skin, completely normal. Angela balled the gauze up and smiled at the work. “All healed, Commander.”

To see if she was correct, Jack even looked over to where his injury was. He was mildly impressed when he was brought with a fresh scar and a completely healed wound, the scar a little more skin colored than he would have normally seen on average wounds. “I don’t think I’ve seen an injury heal so well so fast. That was with your…” 

“Nanites” Angela filled in for him. “They hold and make stronger bonds. Were you able to read my initial report with their development, Commander Morrison?” Angela asked, throwing the bandage and gloves in a waste bin near the door. She sat back in the chair she now dubbed as hers, looking back to the per she pulled out now with a pen in hand as Jack thought about it. 

“No. Captain Amari read over your papers and reports, it was her idea to call you into Overwatch to begin with. I know you have a link with Agent Lindholm and Agent Wilhelm, but beyond I haven’t read your discoveries personally.” Jack summed up for her, relaxing a little in the chair.

Angela gave a slightly annoyed hum before looking back at her screen. “I see. The technology is… developed but not very well produced. Whatever Nanites I have on me is it until I can get a lab sector up and go into research and labs.” Angela explained, marking off the notes on both Jack’s injury report paper and a document on the computer. “That’s why you were not administered very much to start, but enough for further developments”

“That’s… interesting” Jack responded as he watched her work. “What would you need to develop them?” 

“I have practically everything I need here. Captain Amari said the lab had most of the materials I’d need ready for whenever I was. If I could just get situated in the Lab I could start properly.” Angela responded. 

Jack seemed to openly think about what Angela had said for a moment, then spoke. “Beyond Doctor O’Deorain’s stubbornness, is there other things hindering your progress setting up in the lab?” 

“No. Merely disagreements, really.” Angela had been less bitter on the topic since time had passed and she had actually gotten something done regarding settling in. “I believe it will be a conversation and situation solved over my time being here. As long as I’m contributing to the organization and helping soldiers, correct?” 

“Correct,” Jack responded. He gave Angela a curt nod before standing. A swift thank you got him on his way and Angela smiled at her screen. She quickly began to input the new information into her research document, noting how topical use of her nanites had helped heal the wounds at an expressed pace. She put it in her notes to watch the process next time. 

Angela stayed within the Medical Bay, and new office, for at least another hour before she stood, noting that there was no one else beyond night staff lounging in the area. Deeming it safe to go back to her quarters, Angela shut down the laptop and stood. She bent her back a little to pop the stiff joints and made her way out of the entire thing. There was a beat in her step, a smile on her face as she made her way out of it until she got to the doors. Upon attempting to walk out, she nearly collided with a mismatched white and beige jacket. 

She halted her step and pulled back, adjusting her view. “Doctor O’Deorain” Angela addressed, her tone a bit short. 

“You haphazardly left your belongings in my lab,” Moira said, little care in her tone. She held out Angela’s messenger bag she had abandoned upon her page earlier in the day. “Take better care of your belongings, _ceann beag_. I won’t be so kind next time.” 

Angela cautiously took her belongings, eyeing Moira up and down before slinging it over her shoulder. “Thank… you?” The new linguistics caused something of confusing. It was so beautiful… yet sounded so insulting. 

“Mm.” Moira held no response. “Don’t get used to it. At least finish your set up before running off.” 

“I got a medical page, I even said left the lab open for later,” Angela responded, her tone flat. “I wasn’t going to ignore it. It could have been an emergency.”

Moira looked her up and down, something of an over analyzing gaze to her expression. “Considering the fact you look chipper and not exhausted, I’d say it wasn’t much of an emergency at all. Aren’t you lot scatterbrained when slammed with the whambulance anyhow?” 

“Just because we come under a lot of fire does not mean we aren’t trained for it. You may be overwhelmed by such a prospect, Doctor O’Deorain, if a critical patient were to come under your care, but for me, it is just another Sunday afternoon.” Angela made it a point then, instead of continuing to bicker she shoved past Moira and made her way out of the Medical Bay. “Goodbye, Doctor O’Deorain,” she said curtly before starting her walk down the hallway. 

She could feel eyes on her as she left, feeling as though Moira was looking through her, seeing her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She could barely hear as she grew farther and farther from her colleague, the disappointment and disrespect in a mutter under her breath. It took everything Angela had to not turn around and shoot right back. But first, she had to know one thing. What had Moira even said to her in that strange tongue?

A quick search upon getting back to her quarters made Angela want to actually yell in visible frustration.

“I am _not_ a little one!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Angela already receiving shitty comments from Moira is giving me life. Sory, but the bitterness must exist before the fluff begins. Angela is going to have such a hard time adjusting to this new facility with someone like Moira running around. Whoo. 
> 
> Remember, I tried something different with this chapter, so everyone please let me know how you liked it! I'll try to keep this up if it's preferred over the usual way I write. Comments and Suggestions otherwise are always welcome as needed. Thank you all once again for reading and have a lovely day!


End file.
